


A Holiday Gift

by RedOutCold (orphan_account)



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: F/F, Romance, Teensy weensy bit of fluff, Violence, reference to PTSD, reference to domestic violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-14 19:53:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13014987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/RedOutCold
Summary: Time has passed since Harley finally found the strength to walk away from the Joker once and for all. She’s got a good thing going with Poison Ivy. So good, in fact, Harley decides to get her a special ‘something’ for the Holiday.Though, getting the gift might turn out to be a lot harder than she anticipated when the Penguin takes interest in her gift.





	A Holiday Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck yea! I’m done with exams and now I can dish out a story or two. So this one is just for the holiday and a little inspired by the Batman animated series “Holiday Knights”, even though my story has nothing to with the episode lol. It just kinda put me in the mood. Anyways, I hope you enjoy me writing yet another story of my favorite OTP criminal ladies.
> 
> P.S  
> This deals with the topic of domestic violence and some ptsd. I’m not someone who has experienced it but I’d like to think I empathize to an extent. If this kind of thing upsets you, please don’t read. I don’t want anyone who has suffered this to be triggered. And I’m not saying that to be a smartass or condescending, I mean I genuinely do not want people who have been through something like this to be reminded if they don’t want to or anyone who doesn’t like reading this kind thing. Just a little PSA. Thanks.

This was weird.

No, that’s an understatement.

This was _scary_.

She scanned the room. It was overflowing with fake smiles and heavy chortles. Fancy dresses and clean cut suits intermingled and circulated all around her. It didn’t make a difference that the room was incredibly spacious and the ceiling was just high enough to ebb away claustrophobia, she still felt anxious.

Harley Quinn has forgotten how to be _normal_.

And it was just plain silly. She wasn’t much for being bashful. No, she was boisterous, a loudmouth, maybe even obnoxious. But shy? Nah.

Yet, with all those things in mind she couldn’t help but feel slightly out of place.

She knew what kind of environment the Silvermann Museum provided, she could taste the aristocracy in the atmosphere. All the attendees were Gotham socialites, the wealthiest and most important. If it wasn’t for their attire, then it was their mannerisms that spoke volumes about their status and wealth.

Harley was glad she was able to sneak one of Pamela’s dresses under her nose. Ivy understood the higher class and knew how to play along right down to the outfit. If Harley hadn’t been able to fumble around in Ivy’s closet for something, she wouldn’t know what to wear. She’d probably look the way she felt right now, like a sore thumb.

Harley shook her head and peered back into the glass case.

The glass case was a perfectly squared cube. It contained a dusty pink rose peaking out of a plain white ceramic vase. The head of the rose looked unusually distended from the stem, the petals swirling into a smooth rhythm. It was an elegant little thing. Harley thought it was pretty for what it was, but she couldn’t really understand the fascination. To her it was just a flower.

But Ivy wanted it.

And that’s what she was here for.

Harley had been trailing the Silvermann Museum for a good two hours. She checked all exits and routes in and out of the building. She was diligent, she didn’t want to screw this up when the time came.

Christmas was just creeping along, and Harley had no idea what she could possibly get for Ivy. What gift could she possibly give to her best friend that spoke her true feelings? Her fantasies?

She remembered sitting on Ivy’s couch watching television, running her fingers along the redhead’s wild tresses when the Gotham News anchor, Vicki Vale, announced a grand reception at the Silvermann Museum. She recalled the way Ivy perked up when the screen cut to an image of the flower that was currently placed in a glass case in front of Harley.

_“What’s the big deal? It’s just a flower.”_

_“Harley, it’s not just a flower. That’s the Juliet Rose. It’s probably one of the most beautiful flowers in the world.”_

_“It’s nice lookin’. But it just looks like something you could’ve picked out at the Botanical Garden at Arkham or something.”_

_Ivy glared at her._

_“No, it’s not. It’s unlike anything this city could ever hope produce.”_

_“Well, if it’s that important to ya, why not just buy one or something? I bet it’s not the only one out there.”_

_Ivy sighed pitifully._

_“I’d love to, and maybe I will. That is, if I can come up with five million dollars.”_

The look of longing in her eyes moved Harley, and it also gave Harley the perfect gift idea. 

She was going to steal that stupidly expensive rose.

She was going to give it to Ivy on Christmas. 

And she was also going to finally tell Ivy her feelings. 

In that exact order, dammit. She didn't care about the likelihood of top tier security when she would return, she was determined to get that stupid flower. 

Harley decided she had scoped the place long enough. She turned on her heels to find the exit when something suddenly poked her chest. 

"Watch where you're going, you dolt!" A british accent hissed. 

Harley glanced down to see a familiar long nose poking out from beneath a black top hat. She knew who it was almost immediately. 

"Penguin," She said boredly, not at all pleased. 

He responded in kind. "Quinzel." 

Of course, out of everyone in the room, he would recognize her underneath the brown wig and heavy makeup. They shared an unpleasant history. Well, mostly he shared an unpleasant history with Gotham's clown prince. Harley was just an extension of that, unfortunately. 

The Penguin snorted. "And just what is the clown's ex doing here, _hmm?_ How on earth were you able to even manage this little get up? You're not exactly known to be the brains to pull something like this off, my dear."

Had Harley not been on a personal mission, she would've happily kicked him where the sun don't shine. 

"None of your business,  _creep._ Unlike you, I can't pay off the press and security into accepting me, especially around the rich."

The Penguin eyed her thoroughly, his thin lips quirked in amusement. "What makes you think I paid anyone off, love?" 

Harley rolled her eyes. She knew she wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but she wasn't stupid either. 

"I'm sure everyone is _very_ accepting of a crime lord waltzin' about some pretty valuable junk during a reception at a museum." 

"Former crime lord, dear." He corrected. 

Harley just snorted and stepped around the short man. She probably took five steps at the most before she rammed into one of his goons who she hadn't even noticed flanking his sides. She glared up at the mountain of a man, he glared back at her. 

As she tried sidestepping the guard, Penguin made a cackling sound. She heard the tap of glass. 

"Is this what you came here for?" He gestured with his cane at the encased Juliet Rose. Harley's lip curled in annoyance. 

" _No._ Mind your own business, will ya?" 

"I can't when your business appears to conflict with my own, love." 

_Dammit._

Harley fully faced him, a deep scowl etched into her features. "I ain't interest in some dumb flower. So no, there ain't no conflict of interests. Tell your possé to move out of my way." 

The Penguin ignored her bluff. "That little rose is worth a pretty penny. And unlike you, I can make the money pour in, I have connections. I'll pay you handsomely to simply stay out of my way." 

Harley's teeth gnashed together. If she was greedy enough, then sure. She'd take up his offer. But this wasn't about money. He wasn't going to bribe her efforts away. 

"Piss off," She grumbled as she pushed the goon away. Harley stalked away, bumping into a few posh socialites who sent her condescending glares. Just before she was out of ear shot though, she heard The Penguin's disgusting chuckle. 

"Well, just so you know dear, _he's_ broken out and is quite curious about you. I'm sure he'd be interested in where you've been all this time. Take care." 

Harley halted her movements for a mere millisecond, but proceeded with her trek to the exit. She would miss the contemplative stare playboy Bruce Wayne sent her amongst the mass of people. 

 

 

 

 

 

She remembered the first time he hit her.

It was unexpected. She can’t recall what she had said or done to irritate him, but she later came to realize it didn’t matter. He didn’t need an excuse. 

It was a solid backhand that cracked across her cheek, the force behind it sent her against the wall. 

She was stunned. She hardly reacted to the stream of blood and snot leaving her nose and spilling on her jester suit. 

He jogged over to her and expressed mock concern. Then he proceeded to push her down and send an onslaught of rough, careless kicks to her stomach, her breasts, her arms, her face.  

The pain coursed through her without abandon. Sharp, clawlike throbs clutched her so greatly, she later vomited all over herself. 

It was a cycle that went on for years. It was like walking endlessly in a pitch black pit. Everywhere she looked she was met with darkness. She’d feel around, squint her eyes and scream at the top of her lungs, but nothing. Nothing changed. 

Maybe she deserved it. After all, she wasn’t innocent. She was just as bad as he was. She struck terror in a lot of people. Their eyes would widen and their mouths would contort into devastating screams at the sight of her. She ruined a lot of lives as his clown princess. 

But was that before or after he warped her mind? After he tainted her thoughts? She honestly didn’t know. She didn’t want to know. And she didn’t know how to stop it. She loved him so much, she simply didn’t know any other way. And she was scared. 

Sometimes she thinks that maybe it was fear that convinced her to stay. Maybe it was fear that convinced her that she was in love. She didn’t know. 

Her world was so jumbled, so murky and perplexing. Nothing was ever truly right or wrong in her eyes. Nothing was black and white. The only thing that had any semblance of  structure, any kind of mercy was Pamela Isley. 

The fiesty redhead was no better a person than Harley, but she was more clear cut. Her eyes weren’t as blurry as Harley’s. And in that, Harley found a home. 

“You’ve been in the bathroom for forty minutes. I’m going to break the door down.”

Harley jumped at the muffled voice on the other side of the door. She’d been standing under the shower head for so long, she wasn’t even bothered when the water turned cold. She turned the knob and stopped the stream. She could hear the lock on the door jingling. 

“Hey now! I’m gettin’ out! No need to bust in, I ain’t decent!” 

“It's _my_ bathroom and _my_ water.” 

For the past year and half, Harley has been living in Ivy’s apartment. It was nice. The redhead was accommodating and welcoming. How Ivy managed to get an apartment and income as a former criminal and a patient of Arkham, was beyond her. But, for the first time since Harley made the grave mistake of being with the Joker, she felt secured. Safe. 

Harley narrowly dropped her towel as the bathroom door swung open. Ivy stood in the entrance with her hands on her hips. 

“I take it you used all the hot water.” 

Harley smiled sheepishly behind the curtain of wet blonde strands. Ivy rolled her eyes and shouldered past her to the sink. 

Harley fumbled for an apology. “I’m sorry Pammy! I, uh, just kinda dazed off. Ya know, time flies when you’re daydreaming.” 

Ivy glanced back at her briefly as she searched through the medicine cabinet. 

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” She said casually as she grabbed her toothbrush and paste. 

Harley didn’t know how to respond to that. She _has_ been dazing off a lot lately, constantly lost in thought. Trying to figure out her next big move. Trying to figure out Ivy. 

Harley loves Ivy. More than anything in every sense of the way. As a best friend, she’s always been there. She makes Harley smile and laugh. She challenges Harley, she teaches Harley. She takes care of Harley. Harley adores Ivy. 

But more than that, Harley was  _in_ love with Ivy. 

It’s the little things, really. The little  things that made Harley realize she was head over heels for this crazy plant lady. 

It was the way Ivy talked to her without talking down to her. It was the way Ivy would take time out of her day to entertain whatever shenanigans Harley wanted to do, even if Ivy knew it was dumb. It was the way Ivy would slip her hand around Harley’s and give a comforting squeeze. It was the way Ivy would express her sympathy without taking pity on Harley. 

It finally occurred to Harley that Ivy was everything she wished the Clown Prince of Crime could’ve been. 

Man, how dumb was she not to see this all along? 

Light green fingers snapped in her face, causing her to nearly drop her towel for a second time. 

Ivy had a mixture of annoyance and confusion on her face. 

“Weren’t you even istening?” 

Harley blinked, then blushed in embarrassment. 

“...no, not really.” She said. 

Ivy’s eyebrows furrowed. “I _said_ that I got us a Christmas tree. Of course, not a real one, we’re not decorating a dead plant like barbarians.” 

Normally, Harley would be jumping up and down at the thought of decorating a tree, even if it was fake because Ivy was just plain stubborn. But at this moment, Harley was so caught up in her thoughts that she wasn’t able to make herself celebrate properly. And Ivy noticed. 

The redhead closed the medicine cabinet and fully faced her, concern now pouring into her features. 

Ivy asked. “Is everything alright, Harley? You haven’t been yourself lately. What’s bugging you?” 

Harley shook her head and stared back at Ivy. The redhead had a way of making her feel weak without even trying. But then again, Ivy had that effect on just about anybody. She was a beautiful woman, even with her hair a tousled mess, her skin a cursed green and sporting a casual sleeping shirt several sizes too large for her frame. Ivy made her weak. 

Harley’s answer to Ivy’s question was belated. 

Ivy took a step toward her. “Is there something we need to talk about? You’ve been hush for the past few weeks.”

”It’s nothing. Nothing. I’m fine.” Harley assured her. Ivy wasn’t convinced. 

The redhead looked searchingly into Harley’s face, then her expression darkened. 

“Does it have anything to do with the Joker?” 

Harley was slightly taken aback. But she shook her head. 

“It’s nothing like that, Pammy. Really, it’s nothing.” She insisted. 

Ivy ignored her. “I swear Harley, I will drag you kicking and screaming before I let you run off with that _clown_ again. You’ve been doing so good. I’m not going to let you to let screw yourself over.”  

“ _Pammy,_ Iswear it’s not like that. I’m fine.” 

Ivy was now guarded and suspicious. She didn’t buy into Harley’s reassurance, but she didn’t press the matter anymore. She eventually left the bathroom to allow Harley to dry up. 

Harley needed to stop acting so weird. She needed to play up her ditziness. But she couldn’t help it when all she ever thought about was confessing to Ivy. And of course, stealing that lousy Juliet Rose. 

As Harley dried her hair, her mind started to float back to the Juliet Rose and the Silvermann Museum. She was going to have to be swift. From her visit, it was pretty clear that The Penguin had plans to steal the flower and sell it. She was now competing with The Penguin, so she needed to be mentally prepared for the possibility of fighting off his goons on top of heavy security.

And the possibility of the Joker. 

She highly doubted that she might run into _him_. But why would The Penguin tell her that he was on the loose? Did he just do it to scare her? Keep her from having the balls to take the damn flower right under his nose? 

It didn’t matter. She was going to get her Pammy the perfect gift to top her confession. And Penguin, the ugly old fart, can suck it. 

 

 

 

 

 

  

It was Christmas Eve and snow blanketed the entirety of Gotham City. It was a  beautiful sight. However, had Harley not been freezing her ass off she might’ve admired it. 

She had scaled the building of the Silvermann Museum without attracting any attention. For an hour she sat patiently on the rooftop, waiting for closing time and for security to take their place. She checked her watch. Two minutes. 

Harley stood up and stretched, testing her muscles. She was more of an improviser than a planner, but tonight she wanted to make this smooth as possible with no hiccups. Get in and get out. 

She peeked over the edge of the building to see the front doors closing and the last of the visitors leaving. It was show time. 

Harley casually jogged to the roof access door. She picked the lock and jingled the door wide open. She peered inside. 

Inside was a long corridor. The end of the hallway merged into a spiral staircase which Harley knew would lead her straight to the encased rose, but it wouldn’t be that simple. She had a gun full of tranquilizers at the ready on her hip. She needed to find the security room and shut off all the cameras first. 

She hopped in and shut the door behind her. Looking around she found the nearest vent, but it was nestled in a corner by the staircase. _Great_. 

She carefully tiptoed to the end of the hallway, listening for any indications of security guards lurking about. When she came face to face with the vent, she performed the exact same method for the roof access door, checking out of her peripheral vision for any unusual shadows. Once she was finally able to rig it open, she crawled inside. 

Harley had a pretty good idea where the security room was, but it took her a good twenty minutes and some going back and forth between passageways before she found it. Just below her crouched form was another vent that showed her a dark room with several computer screens depicting various areas of the Silvermann Museum. There were two male security guards sitting by the screens, hunched over eating pizza and gossiping, periodically checking the screens. _Bingo_. 

Harley aimed her tranquilizer and shot one dart each in the back of their heads. Both men passed out immediately. 

Harley once again picked and rigged the vent before sliding out and landing lightly on the ground. She pushed the men aside and began shutting off all cameras and motion sensors. When she was satisfied with her work, she proceeded to hop back into the vent, propelling herself off the balls of her feet.

This was turning out a lot easier than she anticipated, but Harley kept her giddiness contained, she didn’t want to jinx herself.  

As she crawled closer from where she had originally entered by the staircase, she a heard a mixture of voices. She instantly stilled. 

“...heard this thing was imported from Western Europe. Hella money for this flower, man.” 

“Did you hear about Bruce Wayne? I think the director said something about him wanting it or something.” 

“Whoa, wait. Hold the phone. _Bruce Wayne_ wants it?” 

“Yea, I think.” 

“What the fuck? That motherfucker could buy a hundred thousand fucking roses for cheaper and he wants to have the one that costs millions?” 

“Hey man, the guy’s a billionaire. Endless funds. I’m sure a couple mill won’t mean anything to him, for him it’s probably just chump change.” 

“Jesus, man.” 

Harley’s whole face twisted in annoyance. She has to compete with Bruce Wayne too? Screw it. She’s still getting that damn Juliet Rose. 

When the voices got fainter, she gingerly crawled out the vent and looked down the stairs. There were at least five guards lurking at the bottom and probably one or two on the floor with her. She reached for her tranquilizer gun. 

One shot each. All five down. She was quick enough to avoid them alerting one another. She rounded a corner and let off a smoke grenade in the middle of the hallway to draw out any guards. She heard panicked coughs. 

“Wha—what the fuck? What’s going on?”

“Someone broke in! Hurry up!” 

Two guards. Harley peeped around the corner and aimed her gun. She couldn’t see well, but she watched for unusual movement in the smoke. She shot two darts.

At the sound of bodies hitting the ground, Harley released a sigh of relief and excitement. She was actually going to get away with this!

She dropped the pretense of stealth and practically danced down the staircase. She could see it now, the shock spilling on Ivy’s face, and then the happiness that would follow. Hopefully that happiness would stay in tact when Harley  opens up to her. 

Harley lifted up the lid of the glass case and dropped it on the ground, creating cracks. Her excitement was making her careless. But nevertheless, she carefully lifted the rose out of its place in the vase. She slipped off her backpack, unzipping it and taking out a black metal container. Harley placed the rose in the container and zipped up her backpack. She was ready to go. 

This was easy. Easy peasy breezy. She’d gotten away with a lot as Harley Quinn, it wasn’t her first gig. But this was a gig that actually mattered to her. This was more than just her or some sleazy punchline the Joker would put her up to. This had weight. This served a purpose that didn’t involve hurting people, and it felt so good to be able to do that for someone she genuinely cared about. 

As she made her way back up the staircase she noticed the smoke had dissipate. Walking through the hall towards the roof access door, she covered her nose and mouth with her shirt.  

“Well, I was wrong. Seems like you do have the brains to pull this off.” 

Before Harley could react to the voice behind her, she felt a sharp strike to the back of her knees. She instantly fell to the ground. 

Harley rolled onto her back to see The Penguin’s round smug face sneering down on her. He was flanked by four henchmen who were all pointing their automatics at her. 

“I am genuinely impressed. For someone so brainless, well, props to you my dear. You manage to do all the dirty work for me and my men,” The Penguin said. 

Harley glared. “I’m not scared of you or your bodyguards, you looser. I’m about to kick all your asses.” 

The Penguin didn’t appeared to be bothered by her threat. Harley knew it had to do with the amount of gun power he had. But she knew better. She came prepared, after all.

She had a gun disruptor, it was a neat little device Ivy had modeled after noticing Batman with the same device. She needed to draw their attention away from her long enough to set it off. 

But how was something she was working out in her head until the The Penguin interrupted her train of thought.

”You know dear, normally I’d just let my men handle this and call it night. But, this is a _special_ occasion. I planned this just for you, and I have been dying to see the look on your face.” 

Harley’s lip curled up in disgust. “The hell are you on about?” 

“Look behind you, love.” 

She sat up and dared to look. Her heart dropped to her stomach. 

A year and a half has passed and since then she’s changed so much. Yet in this moment, she felt as weak as the day she left him. 

His hair was still that bright, sickly green that she had grown to hate. His skin was a ghostly white, so white, she’s seen corpses with a better complexion. He wore the same purple trench coat with the green under vest, surely hidden with knives and flowers engorged with toxins.

His smile was the worst of all. A red, wide smile that would stretch from ear to ear showing a row of perfectly straight yellow teeth. The smile never reached his eyes. 

Between her and the exit was the Clown Prince of Crime himself, the Joker. 

Harley couldn’t think straight. The panic swallowed all her plans, leaving her without enough thought to escape this nightmare. 

The Joker’s smile discended into a mocking frown. He tilted his head and crept towards her, his motions were very predator–like. 

“Oh, Penguin, my good fellow, I don’t think she’s too happy to see me.” 

“Mm. Perhaps she’s silent with joy. Who the hell knows,” The Penguin cackled. 

Harley was frozen in place. Her mind was screaming, clawing, _begging_ her to get up and do _something_. But she couldn’t, not even when she felt one of Penguin’s henchmen come behind her and snatch off her backpack.  

The Penguin cleared his throat. “Well, I have what I want. She’s all yours. Merry Christmas.” 

Harley listened to the footsteps grow more distant while keeping her eyes on the Joker. The Joker stared back at her with quiet intensity. 

It was like she had been glued to the floor. Her muscles refused budge, her mind refused to think. She was better than this, but her body was choosing this moment to disprove that. 

Silence ticked on forever until the Joker opened his sinister mouth. 

“Well, this is quite awkward wouldn’t you say? Ha, look at me, just at a loss of words.”

“Stay away from me.” 

“You know, darling, I’ve been wondering where you’ve ran off to. You sneaky little fox, you.” 

“Stay away from me.” 

“I’ve been combing this city. Searching high and low for my little Harlequin. Sneaky, _sneaky_ little thing you are.” 

“Stay the hell away from me, you bastard.” 

_“Whatever happened to ‘puddin’?”_

In the blink of an eye, Joker charged at her. Her muscles came back to life at the sight of him running towards her like a wild animal. She lunged off the ground and dashed the opposite direction, back towards the staircase. 

Her ears were buzzing. Sweat broke out at her nape. Tendrils of fear twisted in the pit of her stomach. She could fight, but she didn’t want to risk it. She knew him too well. Or maybe the sight of him triggered so much fear that it quelled her fighting spirit. She didn’t know. 

Harley rounded the staircase and slid down the rails. Halfway she jumped off and ran for the front doors. Earlier she had no intentions of exiting this way for cautionary purposes, but fuck all. 

As she kicked up the pace, she remembered her tranquilizer gun. She yanked it out of her hip holster and twisted around to aim. Unfortunately, the Joker was a lot closer than she had realized. He slammed into her, both of them tumbling to the ground, knocking the tranquilizer gun out of her hand. 

She felt his breath on her face. His knees painfully pinned her thighs down. He held  her down with one hand while he used the other to rain down solid, relentless punches to her face. 

Harley clawed at his hand desperately, twisting under his heavy body. She turned her head away to avoid a hit for her nose but ended up feeling that weight land on her temple. 

The Joker bursted into a fit of laughter at her predicament. He was enjoying this. 

Harley manage to bring a desperate fist to his ear, stunning him temporarily. She pushed him back with as much force as possible and crawled for her tranquilizer. She felt a vice–like grip wrap around her ankle and drag her back towards him. She attempted to kick him, but stilled when a searing pain shot up her entire leg. She looked down. He just stabbed the back of her leg with a pocket knife. 

He successfully pulled her back underneath him. The Joker had a giddy look in his eyes as he wrapped unforgiving hands around her throat, like a child about to shred open a present. He applied so much pressure on her neck, she felt like she was breathing through a straw. Harley tried again to claw and hit his face, but he dodged her petty attempts.

Black spots decorated her vision. Her throat felt like it was about to collapse. The inside of her ears felt thick, like someone had stuffed cotton in them. He was going to kill her. 

A certain redheaded crazy plant lady appeared in her mind, and in response Harley thrashed harder. No way. Not like this. 

As she felt the fingers of unconsciousness brush her, the weight on her throat was suddenly lifted. The Joker disappeared from her sight. 

Harley sat up, coughing and gasping. Her eyes were watering and she was sticky from her own blood. She glanced up to see the Joker on the ground cackling uncontrollably as a large black mass pinned his hands behind his back. Harley’s eyes travelled up to see a familiar pair of long, sharp ears standing erect on the black mass. 

Batman. 

She couldn’t see very well, but she knew it was Gotham’s dark knight. Batman wrestled cuffs onto the Joker, slipping in a few ruthless punches himself. 

“You’re going back to Arkham, Joker.” Batman said in that brooding, dark voice. 

The Joker just laughed. “Oh? And will she be coming with me?” 

“Be quiet.”

Joker let out a loud belly laugh at that. When Batman finished securing the hand cuffs, he stood up and sauntered over to Harley. A big, black figure that haunted the thoughts of many criminals. He crouched in front of her. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

Harley just rolled her eyes and snorted pitifully. “What do you think?” 

Batman stared at her for a moment, then asked, “Were you the one who took out all the guards? Or was it Penguin?” 

She didn’t understand why he was asking. If he knew Penguin had been here at all, then he knew who took out all the guards. 

“I just wanted to do something nice for her, that’s all.” She whispered. 

Batman, in a rare moment, seemed unsure of himself. He outstretched his hand, perhaps to comfort Harley, but decided against it, retracting his hand. He stood up. 

“We need to take you to the hospital right now,” He said. 

Harley shook her head. “Why? So they can arrest me there? No way, bats. If there’s one thing I’m leaving with tonight, it’s my freedom.” 

“You need medical attention.” 

“Stop acting like you care.” 

Harley pushed herself off the ground and ran back up the staircase for the umpteenth time. The roof access door, _finally_ , was wide open for her to escape. She didn’t sense Batman chasing her, but she didn’t slow her feet. 

So much for a Christmas present. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was Christmas Day and Harley was lounging in bed. 

She cleaned and patched herself up the night before while Ivy slept. Rinsing away blood and tossing out ruined clothes. But she didn’t know what to do with her face. 

Bruises littered her features. A black eye here, a cut lip there, and a puffy cheek to top it all off. She didn’t know how to explain any of it to Ivy, so she stayed in bed. 

Last night could’ve gone better. If she had acted quicker, if she hadn’t ran away, double checked the whole place for Penguin. Then maybe....

Harley rolled over under her sheets. It didn’t make a difference. What happened had happened. She couldn’t even get Ivy a stupid flower for Christmas. 

She jumped at the sound of a pounding fist on her door. 

“Harley? What on earth—are you even in there?” 

Harley contemplated answering. If she didn’t respond, maybe Ivy would leave. 

The pounding continued. “Harley! I know you’re in there. My plants can _sense_ you. Open the door!” 

Harley peeked out of the covers and peered around. She saw a tiny cactus perched on the windowsill, it’s been there since she moved in. But oddly enough though, she felt betrayed.  _Snitch_. 

“That’s it, I’m getting the keys,” Ivy sighed on the other side. 

Harley threw the covers off her. What’s the next move? What is she going to say? That she ran into Joker last night? Ivy would loose marbles. But what would be the use in lying? Harley didn’t feel like lying. She didn’t feel like keeping secrets anymore. 

She heard the twist of a lock and the door swinging open. 

“What is your problem? Weeks, _weeks_ you’ve been acting weird and now this? You need to start talking to me, Harls. You don’t just hole yourself up on Christmas—“ 

Ivy stopped her ranting when she finally saw the condition of Harley’s face. She immediately ran to her side. 

“What happened? Who did this to you?” Ivy asked in a burst of concern. 

Harley sat up and stared at the redhead. 

_Tell the truth._

“Last night,” Harley started. “While you were asleep, I went out. And... I ran into him.” 

Ivy’s face went from concern to fury in a matter of seconds. 

“I’ll kill him. _I will kill him_. Why were you out? How did he even find you? What happened that put you at risk? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Please, Pammy. Stop with the questions. Lemme explain.” 

Ivy closed her mouth and sighed heavily through her nose. She was still shaking with anger, but allowed Harley to continue. 

“I...you know that flower that we saw on the news a couple of weeks ago? That Juliet Rose you were raving about? That was suppose to be your Christmas present.” 

Ivy didn’t say anything, so Harley continued. 

“Penguin wanted it too, but I didn’t care. I planned this whole thing for you, but I got screwed. Penguin pretty much set me up and teamed up with the Joker. He took the flower, Joker cornered me and...” Harley trailed off and motioned to her bruised face. 

They sat in absolute silence. Ivy’s face was completely unreadable, just a blank slate. Harley twitched nervously, she wished she could grab her shoulders and shake her, get some type of reaction out of her, but decided against it. 

Moments of nothing passed. Harley began to wonder if the redhead was angry at her. Maybe she shouldn’t have told her. Maybe the entire thing was just plain stupid to her. Maybe Harley was a fool. 

Ivy sighed, pulling Harley out of her stupor.

”Harls, you didn’t have to do that. Your safety is way more important to me.” 

Harley shook her head. “I know I didn’t _have_ to, but I _wanted_ to.” 

Ivy rubbed her temples as if she had a headache. “That rose is worth millions. If you or the Penguin weren’t after it, then someone else would try to steal it, like Riddler or Two-Face. The only reason I didn’t get it myself is because thats too predictable. People would expect that from _Poison Ivy_. It wasn’t worth your safety Harley, I can live without it.” 

“That’s not the only reason, Pam,” Harley insisted. “That’s not the point. I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me.” 

“You can express that in a letter, Harley.” 

“That’s not the point!” 

Harley was getting frustrated. She knew it wasn’t Ivy’s fault, but after what she had been through, she just felt like it should obvious. Her feelings should be obvious. 

Harley exclaimed. “It’s not the gift, it’s the thought!” 

“Okay,” Ivy said, eyeing her strangely. “Then any old gift would’ve been fine Harley. It didn’t have to be the one that could've cost you your life.” 

“No, it wouldn’t,” Harley exasperated. “Because ‘any old gift’ wouldn’t express how I feel. You don’t get it.” 

Ivy sighed. “Then help me ‘get it.’ Help me understand why you running into that _bastard_ and having your safety jeopardized is worth trying to give me a gift.” 

Harley fully faced Ivy and took a deep breath. She was shaking. 

“I love you.” 

Silence. Ivy just blinked. 

“I love you too, Harley. That doesn’t explain anything.” 

Harley smacked her forehead, then winced at the presence of a throb. 

“Do I hafta spell it out?” Harley asked. “I love you. But not the way you think.” 

Ivy’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She wasn’t following. Harley was beginning to believe this was all a mistake, but she was in too deep anyways. 

Harley sighed. “Listen, and don’t laugh, alright? I’m being honest for ya.”

Ivy just stared at Harley expectantly. Harley took a deep breath.

“I...jeez, this is gonna get cheesy. I love you. But not in the friendly way—well, no, in the friendly way too, you are my best friend, but more than that. I mean, you’re always there for me, you’re honest with me, you _respect_ me....ugh. This is embarrassing...you get where I’m going here?” 

Ivy shook her head, eyes very focused. Maybe Harley just imagined it, but she could’ve sworn she saw Ivy’s lips _quirk,_  but it disappeared too quickly to tell. Suspicion crept in her thoughts as she continued. 

“Alrighty, then. What I mean is, you’re  really amazing and I...I might have some...I guess what people call feelings or whatever...like couples...are you seriously smiling right now?” 

She was. Ivy couldn’t contain her glee. She had a vibrant smile that glowed from ear to ear and it made Harley’s heart skip. 

Harley threw a pillow at her at her face. “You already know, don’t you? You have any idea how hard this is? This is torture!” 

Ivy caught it in time and tossed it aside. Her smile remained in tact. 

“Well, now. I had a hunch for awhile, but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure. It’s just nice to hear it,” She said warmly. 

Harley’s face was aflamed. She was glad for such a positive response, but that still didn’t quite answer her question. 

“So, does that mean that you..?” Harley trailed off. 

Ivy nodded. “I love you too, Harls. And not in the friendly way.” She slipped her hand into Harley’s. Ivy started to lean in and before Harley realized what was happening, she felt soft warm lips press against hers. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was New Year’s Eve, both Harley and Ivy were cooped up in their apartment. They were snuggled under a quilt, watching the annual ball drop from the Wayne tower, signifying the countdown. 

Harley heard three soft knocks at the door. She glanced up at Ivy who was also peering at the door curiously. 

“I’m not expecting anyone,” She said thoughtfully. 

Harley shrugged and slipped out of the comfort of the quilt. She trailed towards the door casually. Who could it be? She and Ivy didn’t really know anyone enough to feel comfortable with uninvited visits. 

When Harley creaked the door open, on the other side stood an older man. A very old man. He was wearing a fancy black pea-coat with a black top hat. In his gloved hands was a small box dipped in scarlet with a golden bow tie placed delicately on top. Harley stared into his face, perplexed. 

“Who’re you?” 

The old man cleared his throat. “Pennyworth, madam. I work for Wayne.” 

Harley’s mind started spinning. “Wait. You’re Brucie’s butler, aren’t cha? What’re you doing out here?” 

Pennyworth nodded to the little box in his hands. 

“Master Bruce procured you a present. I was given directions to see that you received it. Though, due to some complications, it’s past the time he would’ve like for you to have it,” The old butler said, easing the gift into Harley’s hands. 

He promptly turn around and said nothing more, leaving Harley dumbfounded. She closed the door and walked back to Ivy, who watched her with a confused expression. 

“Who was that?” Ivy asked, glancing at the box. 

Harley just shrugged as she took the lid off. Inside was a dusty pink rose with petals that swirled into a smooth rhythm. There was a letter nestled next to it. She took it out and gracelessly ripped it open to read its contents. 

 

 

_Merry Christmas Quinzel_

 

 

 

_Sincerely,_

_Bruce Wayne_  

 

**Author's Note:**

> This story is much longer than it was intended to be, I think I have a problem, lol. I don’t know if the Juliet Rose is as big of a deal as I make it on the story, but for the purpose of the plot I’m just going to treat it like it’s a huge thing. By the way, the Juliet Rose is an actual Rose and it’s very gorgeous if you were curious, lol. Another thing, I hope I didn’t make anyone too depressed. I know the majority of this story is serious as fuck, but I just felt the need to express how violent and demented Harley’s relationship with the Joker truly is. Sorry to all the Joker X Harley fans, this a pretty twisted relationship that needs to be shown for what it is. But I still hope someone was able to find enjoyment with this all the same. Thanks for reading.


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